


Kiss From a Rose

by jongnugget



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Art, Flowers, Fluff, Love, M/M, Odd, Painter!AU, Romance, idek tbh, it's odd, just really odd
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-11
Updated: 2018-02-11
Packaged: 2019-03-16 14:44:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,564
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13638360
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jongnugget/pseuds/jongnugget
Summary: The sweetest torture, the sweetest pain. A kiss from a rose.





	Kiss From a Rose

**Author's Note:**

> This was inspired by a twitter post about soft, pink boyfriends KaiSoo.
> 
> In which wearing makeup and pink is not just a kink but a part of them. If they want to wear pink and wear makeup and fishnets and fake fur, they do it, because their masculinity isn't fragile. They do it because they love it and it shapes their personalities. 
> 
> That, and I love flowers. 
> 
>  
> 
> _For Amanda, who inspired this~_

                                                                                                           

Most of Kyungsoo’s life had been grey.

He had spent a great deal of time suffering because of the monochrome world he had to live in, tired of all the black and white and grey surrounding him. He was tired of trying to hide, of trying to not stand out.

At some point in his life he had started wondering if it was _bad_ that he was different. If it was something he should have been _ashamed_ about. The monochrome people around him sure made it feel that way with their confused stares and hushed whispering.

And he did try, back then. He tried to blend into everything boring in this world. He tried to hide all his colors, he tried to make them fade away. He tried and with time, it only felt like he would succeed. To turn completely black and white and grey like everyone else.

It was a dark time for him.

While he did fit in, for a while, and while he tried to look black and white and grey just like everyone else, his heart’s color had still not quite faded out. This change, this world – trying to be part of it was hard. But the people around him seemed to accept it. To positively embrace that change in him. They were _praising_ him for it.  

It brought nothing but sadness and boredom in his life.

It was causing bad thoughts to invade his mind all the time. Dark ones. So bad and dark that he had started fearing the color in his heart too would fade out. So scared that he would _actually_ turn black and white and grey.

He really didn’t know where he would have been now had he continued having those thought. Had he really remained black and white and grey with a washed out colorful heart.

Had he not bumped into his fate on that random monochrome Thursday.

Bumped. Literally.

He still remembered it as if it had happened yesterday. Bumping into that boy on the street.

He remembered looking up with the intention of quickly apologizing and then continuing down his way, but then stumbling back in momentary shock.

What he had been greeted with had been an explosion of color.

Suddenly bursting to every corner of his vision, painting the entire street around them. Filling up his entire body again, he could feel the tingling in the tip of his fingertips.

Kyungsoo knew then, he just _knew_ , that the black and white and grey life wasn’t for him. He knew it when he saw that boy with pink hair and laughter on his lips.

He knew then, that color was powerful. More so than anything black and white and grey.

Color was beautiful.

* * *

Jongin was everything Kyungsoo had always wanted to be, and more.

Jongin was confidence and happiness and joy and passion and creativity.

Jongin was the single most outstanding person he’d ever met in his life.

People stared at him. People scrutinized him with their glances and with their hushed whispers. Those same things that had made Kyungsoo feel insecure for years, the badly concealed disgust and the vicious words – they didn’t seem to bother Jongin.

Jongin was above all that. It felt like he was floating in his own, little world where none of that existed.

Kyungsoo was lucky to have been invited to that world. He was lucky to be part of it now. He was lucky Jongin had let him in.

Because with him by his side, the color in his life returned.

With Jongin by his side, he started feeling happiness and joy and passion again.    

With Jongin by his side, he was confident.

* * *

“You know what?” Jongin asked and Kyungsoo looked up from their linked arms on the table. The boy was already looking at him with the same dreamy gaze in his eyes, half hidden by the pink bangs. He was smiling. “You should try putting on makeup.”

Kyungsoo blinked at his colorful boyfriend.

He had never really thought about it. He appreciated it, appreciated seeing it on other people, but had never really thought about it on his own face.

Jongin was still looking at him, hands gripping his tightly, as he was waiting for an answer.

Kyungsoo just kept staring at him. He really couldn’t help it. Jongin was magnetic.

With the matte lipstick painting his lips, that were stretched in a beautiful smile and the barely visible glitter around his eyes, he was beautiful. He knew how to make his already gorgeous face stand out even more. He knew his way with makeup, so if he was saying Kyungsoo had to try it, then he was probably right.

“Alright.” He ended up saying after a while, squeezing Jongin’s arms. “I’ll try it.”

The boy’s face just lit up even more, his eyes sparkling not because of the glitter and his smile stretching even more. He was beautiful.

“Really?”

“Only if you do it for me.”

Jongin let out a beautiful chuckle then, and before Kyungsoo knew it he had leaned over the coffees on the table to kiss him on the lips.

Not caring about the other people in the café throwing glances at them and whispering.

Kyungsoo too, didn’t care. He didn’t care about them either.

All he cared about were Jongin’s lips pressed against his and the faint taste of cherries lingering on his tongue.

It wasn’t even an hour later when Kyungsoo was staring back at the mirror, dark coal around his eyes and a tingling feeling on his skin everywhere Jongin’s brush and hands had touched his face.

He looked like himself, but in the same time – he didn’t.

Kyungsoo loved it. That boy staring at him in the mirror, with the messed up black hair and the beautiful face, with dark around the eyes – that boy was what Kyungsoo had always wanted to be.

Confidence. Confidence. Confidence.

That boy in the mirror had it all. He knew he was on top of the world and that nothing could ever drag him down.

He blinked quickly when he felt a weight on his shoulder and saw Jongin leaning against him, beautiful pink hair falling over his eyes again.

He looked at their reflection again, then. Jongin, with his pink hair leaning against that Kyungsoo, the Kyungsoo he had always wanted to be. They were smiling.

In that moment, Kyungsoo realized that he really was on top of the world.

“Why didn’t you put on any lipstick?”

“Because,” Jongin started and Kyungsoo felt a hand turning his face and gaze away from the mirror. He just stared at his beautiful boyfriend, who leaned in for another kiss. His lips, everlasting taste of cherries. “You can have all of mine.”

Kyungsoo’s hand slid down to Jongin’s waist, pulling him closer.

“Take it all.” Jongin urged and Kyungsoo pressed their foreheads together. He smiled, breathing in the sweetness of his boyfriend.

“All of it?”

“All of it.”

* * *

Jongin wasn’t a painter, but he sure was damn good at it. It was apparent that it was one of his many passions, even if he himself didn’t know about it just yet.

With the amount of time Kyungsoo had spent staring at him, he had noticed that whenever there was a pen or a pencil in Jongin’s fingers he always found himself doodling things on napkins, on torn pieces of paper, on textbooks or on receipts from the coffee shops.

Kyungsoo always found it fascinating. Watching Jongin zoning off and just doodling around with his lower lip trapped between white teeth in concentration.

“What are you drawing?” Kyungsoo couldn’t help his curiosity, his hand resting on Jongin’s thigh, as he leaned down closer.

Jongin didn’t shy away, he never did. Instead, he pushed the napkin between them and Kyungsoo smiled.

It was a rose. A singe rose on that crumpled napkin, drawn with a pen that had torn the texture in a few spots. Even so, it was a beautiful sketch.

“Roses are beautiful,” Jongin sighed and Kyungsoo looked at him.

The boy was still staring at his drawing with that same dreamy expression on his face and Kyungsoo couldn’t help but agree.

Roses were beautiful.

Jongin was more beautiful.

And that expression on his face, of longing and joy, didn’t go unnoticed by Kyungsoo.

He let his arm travel down his thigh as he squeezed his knee and made a mental note to himself to help keep Jongin’s passion for this little thing alive.

Maybe a canvas and some good paints were going to be a good idea for a present.

Maybe, just maybe, Kyungsoo would see those roses come to life with color.

* * *

Jongin was talented.

He had been right – that passion had turned out to be something much more than just a habit when spacing out. From little and hasty sketches on napkins Jongin had reached the point of having most of his furniture covered in large canvas and paintings.

Beautiful, every single last of them.

The concentration in Jongin’s eyes whenever he was holding a brush in his hand and carefully fixing little, intricate details on the canvas in front of him always warmed something inside of Kyungsoo. He could just stand up and approach the boy, arms circling around his waist and chin resting on his shoulder as he’d watch him work. 

Kyungsoo’s heart could only swell at the joy in his boyfriend’s eyes whenever he finished another painting.

They were in the usual café down the street from Kyungsoo’s photo studio, just like almost every other day, when Jongin had grabbed Kyungsoo’s hand and pulled it closer, pressing the tip of his pen against his skin. It was tickling him when the younger boy started moving the pen.

Kyungsoo didn’t mind. He didn’t mind being Jongin’s canvas for once.

“You know,” he started, eyes focused on the face of his boyfriend. Or at least on the part of it he could see through the bangs of pink. “You should make your own exhibition.”

Jongin made some sort of sound that suspiciously sounded like a scoff as he continued his pen’s journey on Kyungsoo’s hand.

“I mean it.”

Only then did Jongin look up, momentarily halting his sketching and locking his gaze with Kyungsoo’s. He seemed skeptical.

“I’m not good enough to have an exhibition of my own.”

It was Kyungsoo’s turn to scoff. He raised his free hand, the one that wasn’t still being held captive between Jongin’s fingers, to cup his cheek. Jongin leaned into the touch.

“You are, Jongin. You are good. You are more than good.” He smiled. “Every time I see a new painting of yours, I am speechless. You create art.”

“You’re only saying that because you’re my boyfriend.” Jongin mumbled and Kyungsoo just shook his head.

Usually, out of the two of them, Jongin was the one who always helped Kyungsoo discover new sides to himself. The one who added more and more colors to the palette of their life.

Now, though, it was Kyungsoo’s turn to make sure Jongin knew he loved him and cherished everything about him, even his art. That he would always be by his side and support him with anything and everything he could. Always. Forever.

“Maybe,” he ended up saying. “But _because_ I am your boyfriend, you should listen to me. I wouldn’t lie to you. What you create…it’s a pity only I ever get to see it.” 

“I don’t know…” Jongin hummed quietly and after a few strokes of his pen against Kyungsoo’s skin, he sighed and looked up. His gaze was soft and uncertain. “Do you really think so?”

“Absolutely.”

He squeezed Jongin’s hand and smiled at him. He was talented. He was beautiful and he was kind and he deserved the whole world and Kyungsoo was planning on giving it to him or die trying.

Everything was worth it when Jongin smiled.

He still didn’t look all that certain, his smile was somehow bashful, but his eyes were shining with gratitude. Kyungsoo knew from that look, that if anything, he’d at least consider it.

“Thank you.” Jongin uttered.

Kyungsoo just nodded, before finally looking down. Jongin’s fingers were still loosely wrapped around one of his hands.

There was a small flower peeking underneath his fingers. It was on top of his hand, just above his thumb – a tiny rose gently drawn to remind him for the rest of the day that he was Jongin’s and that Jongin was his. To remind him that with every passing second, his heart became bigger and bigger just so it could fit all the love he had for the other man.

He looked at Jongin again then, at his dazed look and slightly parted red lips, pink hair messed up. A vision.

He kind of wished that flower on his hand wouldn’t wash out soon. If it meant he could have a part of Jongin with himself during the entire day, then he wanted it to stay on forever.

* * *

That entire evening was magical.

He couldn’t keep his eyes off Jongin. He couldn’t keep his eyes off his boyfriend, who was carrying himself around with pride and confidence. With the pink fur thrown over his shoulders and happiness radiating from every pore in his body, he was standing out.

Even among all his magical paintings showcased on every wall in the gallery, he stood out.

He always did. He was meant to stand out. 

The opening of Jongin’s exhibition was undoubtedly the first of many successes they’d celebrate together. The first of the many challenges they’d conquer together.

Kyungsoo didn’t doubt that for even a second. Especially when Jongin found him in the crowd and linked their hands.

Both of them stood out. Among all these people dressed in black suits and gowns, they were the only two standing out. Kyungsoo’s pink leather jacket matched the fur on Jongin’s shoulders and his smile matched the glint in Jongin’s eyes, as the younger man pulled him towards the exit.

“I can’t believe you ditched the opening party for your own exhibition.” Kyungsoo laughed, holding Jongin’s hand tightly as they walked down the empty road. He could hear the crashing of waves against rocks in the distance.

“We were there for hours and they all asked the same questions.” It was dark outside and Kyungsoo didn’t need to even look up to know Jongin had pouted. He could hear it in his voice.

His odd, peculiar flower. Kyungsoo couldn’t help the smile that stretched his lips again.

The road was empty, there were no cars at this hour. The only things Kyungsoo could see were bushes by the sidewalks and then tall fences.

One of the bushes in particular caught his attention. He let go of Jongin’s hand briefly to go closer and tear one of the flowers out. He didn’t mind when the thorn scratched his finger, not as long as he got to pick up the rose and give Jongin a smile as he caught his hand again and they continued down the road.

The walk to the beach was pretty quick. Their aimless walking had brought them here and none of them seemed to mind, as they took their shoes off and then toes were sinking into sand, as they continued down the shore hand in hand.

It was dark and only the distant city lights over the rocks were reflecting in the water. The moon was up in the sky, clear and cloudless and it felt like it was looking at them.

Kyungsoo’s fingers were picking on the thorns of the rose he had picked up earlier as Jongin dragged him down to sit on the sand. An action he almost whined at. They’d both regret this later, he knew, but the moment he found himself staring right at Jongin and the way the night breeze was messing up his perfectly styled hair and the way his lips were slightly parted, he forgot all reasoning he had. He just shivered when he felt Jongin’s hot breath on his skin.

“Thank you, Kyungsoo.”

“For what?”

“For believing in me.” Jongin said simply and Kyungsoo only looked down to smile. He pushed the last thorn of the stem to the side, getting rid of it, before raising his hand to tuck the flower behind Jongin’s ear.

He took a while staring at his boyfriend like this – a rose wearing a rose, with dark lips still parted and pupils wide in the night. His breath on Kyungsoo’s skin felt only hotter because he had inched closer. 

“Always.”

He meant it. Always sounded like an awfully long time, but he meant it. His always and his forever, they belonged to Jongin.

He just couldn’t keep his eyes away as his fingers traced the side of his boyfriend’s face as they slid down. First to his shoulders and through the soft fur, down his arm, until they finally found Jongin’s hand half buried in the sand.

They were out at the beach and the breeze was strong, but it felt like there was no air around them. It was a somewhat freezing evening, but Kyungsoo had never felt so warm, as he stared at Jongin’s eyes again.

“Move in with me.”

Jongin’s first reaction was to just blink at him.

“What?”

“Move in with me.”

Jongin let out a breath and Kyungsoo felt his boyfriend’s fingers tightening around his. His lower lip trembled.

“Really?”

Kyungsoo pursed his lips together. They practically lived together already anyways. It was either him being in Jongin’s apartment all the time, or Jongin – at his.

That, and the very prospect of sharing a home with Jongin warmed Kyungsoo’s entire body. The thought of waking up to him every morning, and going to sleep with him every night – it drove him crazy just thinking about it.

He nodded at his boyfriend, whose eyes just kept on widening.

“Move in with me.”

Jongin let out a chuckle then. A surprised sound, a shocked one, in the form of a chuckle. He was nodding before he could even let out a sound and Kyungsoo could already feel his heart bursting.

“Yes.”

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

Jongin wrapped a hand around his neck and puled him closer. Their kiss was slow and deep and it was the single sweetest and warmest thing in Kyungsoo’s life so far. Jongin’s fingers were curled in the hair at his nape and Kyungsoo wasn’t sure if the occasional sounds leaving Jongin’s lips were sobs or small laughs. Jongin pulling him down for a kiss after a kiss didn’t give him time to check either. 

He didn’t know for how long they stood out there on that beach, he didn’t know for how long they stood out there just holding onto each other and kissing and laughing and he didn’t care about the people in the gallery with the exhibition and he didn’t care that their clothes were going to be ruined come morning.

The only thing he knew was that his heart was not his own anymore.

It was Jongin’s now.

Maybe it always had been.  

* * *

Flowers became a usual accessory of Jongin.

Kyungsoo couldn’t help but notice the singular flowers he started seeing on his boyfriend sometimes. Tucked behind his ear or in the front pocket of his blazer.

Burgundy blooms, matching his burgundy lips.

White daisies, matching his wide smile.

Pink carnations, matching the soft pink of his hair.

Baby’s breath, gently adorning his head in the most beautiful of flower crowns.

And roses, of course.

Jongin wore a rose whenever Kyungsoo brought him an entire bouquet of those. Whenever he made sure at least one of them would be safely tucked behind his ear, that’s when Jongin’s smile would be the widest. When his fingers would be the gentlest, as they traced Kyungsoo’s face and hands. When his eyes would shine the brightest.

Kyungsoo wasn’t even sure how Jongin’s love for that thing grew so quickly. How from starting off with single flower somewhere on his head or clothes he ended up having an entire collection of flower crowns.

But the more his love for it grew, the more often he wore the flowers, the deeper Kyungsoo fell for him.

For his own rose, always blooming and always beautiful.

He walked up to Jongin who was biting on his lower lip in concentration and staring at the canvas with narrowed eyes.

Kyungsoo wrapped his arms around the younger’s waist and pulled him into a tight back hug. He rested his chin on his shoulder and looked at the scattered blossoms on the canvas.

“I can’t decide what I love more, the flowers you draw or the flowers you wear.”

Jongin chuckled quietly and Kyungsoo could feel his body vibrating. He watched as the younger man left the brush to the side and turned around in his arms, his own hands finding their way around Kyungsoo.

“How about me?”

He was right, Kyungsoo smiled. All those flowers he loved because of Jongin. They were the most beautiful shades of colors because Jongin was making them bright. If there was no Jongin, then there would have been no meaning in all of this.

He loved Jongin.

He respected him for who he was, because he had deserved it.

He believed in him. He believed in his hopes and dreams. He would always have his back and he would raise him as far up as he could.  

He would protect him forever. From harm and his heart from pain, he would try to shield him from everything bad and ugly in this world.  

Forever, he would love him forever. He wouldn’t leave, he would be there for him again and again. Whenever he needed him, just as ready at 3am as he would be at 7pm.

All that, though, Jongin knew already. Kyungsoo didn’t need to say it out loud to know that his rose knew already.

He just pressed his forehead against Jongin’s and smiled, fingers curling into the other’s shirt tightly.

“I’ll always choose you.”

* * *

White. Everywhere he looked, he only saw white.

Not the monotone white of the boring and sad world, but the beautiful white of winter.

It was cold, awfully so, and not even all the layers of clothes could keep him warm as he walked down the street, white snowflakes magically flying around him.

There was fluffy snow at the tip of his boots as he suddenly halted in front of the window of the boutique. His eyes raked over all the colors inside, but the one thing he was looking for is absent.

It was winter.

And roses don’t bloom in winter.

He buried his face deeper into the scarf, as he continued down the street. He didn’t want to keep Jongin waiting in the cold.

He wanted to buy him a rose. Jongin loved roses. There wasn’t a special occasion. Just them meeting after work to go and grab dinner together before heading home together. Still, it felt kind of wistful that he couldn’t get him the red bloom.

Kyungsoo hurried when he saw the lonely figure in front of himself – bundled in just as many layers of clothing as himself, if not even more. Jongin, for once, seemed small in his large coat, the hat and the scarf securely wrapped around his neck.

He was absolutely freezing, Kyungsoo could tell, but as soon as he saw him, his face lit up.

A beautiful smile and pink cheeks, kissed by the chilly wind of the winter.

Maybe roses didn’t bloom in winter, but to Kyungsoo Jongin was a rose. With his pink hair and flushed cheeks and loving heart.

He supposed it was alright, not finding a rose in that store. There was, after all, a rose here. The most gorgeous and beautiful of all roses.

Kyungsoo reached out a hand to wrap around Jongin’s as a greeting, pulling his freezing palm inside his coat’s pocket. Jongin smiled as he just pressed himself as close as possible to Kyungsoo and they started walking side by side to the restaurant through the piles of snow.

Even in the coldest and whitest of all days, Jongin managed to paint everything pink. He truly was special.

Just like a rose in winter, he was the miracle in Kyungsoo’s life.

* * *

Kyungsoo watched in a trance at the little bubbles rising in his glass, he could hear them popping.

The liquid was light and pink and he could tell it was sweet. It smelled sweet.

Jongin had a wide grin adorning his face as he poured the pink champagne in their glasses.

“What are we celebrating?” Kyungsoo asked and waited for Jongin to snuggle closer to him on the couch, holding a delicate glass with alcohol between delicate fingers.

They were both wearing sweatpants, and Jongin’s white shirt was covered with specks of paint. His hair was a mess. They both were a mess, sprawled out in their couch,  feet rubbing against one another as they were trying to keep each other warm.

“My last painting got sold today.” Jongin announced, the wide grin on his face only widening further. Kyungsoo couldn’t help but straighten up, quite surprised by the news.

He just gave Jongin an incredulous look, feeling that same wide grin occupying his own face.

“Really?! Congratulations, Jongin, that’s-…that’s just…”

“I know,” Jongin laughed and Kyungsoo, too, laughed, the champagne dangerously swirling in his glass.

“I’m so proud of you.”

So proud. So proud that he couldn’t even put it into words.

Maybe that was his mistake. He was trying to put something indescribable into words.

He just laughed again as he buried a hand in Jongin’s hair and pulled him forward, crashing their lips together.

Jongin responded eagerly to his kiss. Legs still tangled on the couch and pink champagne still in their hands, and their lips molding perfectly together.

Kyungsoo had never felt prouder in his life. Staring at his boyfriend like this, he seemed happier than ever.

There was something about this whole moment.

Jongin’s success had definitely reached a new height and Kyungsoo was proud to be his biggest supporter.

Whether it was art on a napkin in a café, or art on a large canvas displayed in a gallery – it didn’t matter.

What mattered was Jongin’s joyful smile whenever he was doing something he loved.

That smile – the most precious art piece of all.

“I really am proud of you,” Kyungsoo whispered, as he finally pulled away and raised the glass between them. “To you, love.”

The clinking sound of the glasses resounded in the otherwise silent room. Jongin’s smile had become softer, more loving than anything.

“To us.” 

Kyungsoo just smiled, before feeling the champagne tickling his lips.

It was sweet. It was delicious and it was refreshing, but it was nothing compared to Jongin’s lips.

So when he was done drinking and staring at his pink boyfriend, he hooked a hand behind his neck and pulled him down for yet another kiss.

Nothing was sweeter than that.

* * *

“Stay still.”

Easier said than done.

Especially when Jongin was sitting in his lap and his face was only inches away from his with parted lips, breath ghosting on his skin and eyes concentrated on his face. His fingers were occasionally brushing against his skin as the brush danced on his temple.

“Stop smiling,” Jongin scolded, giggling himself as he brought the brush down and Kyungsoo tried to maintain a straight face.

Instead, he wrapped his hands around Jongin’s waist, painfully aware of their crotches pressing together.

“You look magical like this.” Jongin spoke quietly, somewhat distractedly, his brush tickling Kyungsoo’s skin. 

“So do you,” Kyungsoo breathed out. It was true. Jongin looked magical with his pink hair and with his dark lipstick and with his glimmering eyeshadow. He looked powerful.

“Stop talking,” the pink-haired man laughed again, swatting Kyungsoo’s hands away from his waist. “And stop touching me, I’ll mess up. I don’t want to poke you in the eye with a brush or something.”

Kyungsoo almost laughed, but then remembered Jongin’s warnings and ended up only smirking. That was also true, he did not want to end up with a brush in his eye.

He needed those eyes to keep staring at Jongin and the perfect imperfection that he was.

He stopped smiling, but he couldn’t stop touching. Jongin didn’t complain when his fingers caught him by the waist again. He just smiled, as he continued working, the stroked of the brush moving from his face down to his neck.

He looked so beautiful like this. Leaning over him, with his beautiful chocolate eyes and his full, pretty lips waiting to be kissed.

There were times when Kyungsoo would just stare at him wordlessly and wonder how he had been blessed enough to have him in his life. How he had deserved all of this.

Now, too, was one of those times.

As he kept staring at a concentrated Jongin, who was giggling from time to time, thanks to the pink Moscato no doubt, he couldn’t help but appreciate him. For every single thing that he was – beauty, kindness, intelligence. Fascination.

Pink.

Love.

Love. So much love.

“I love you.” he uttered quietly and Jongin didn’t tell him to stop talking this time. He just smiled softly as he continued painting on his skin.

Kyungsoo bit on his lower lip, as he kept on staring at the vision that Jongin was. His cheeks were turning pink and Kyungsoo loved the fact that he still had that effect on him.

His fingers moved down Jongin’s thighs, feeling the subtle muscles underneath his fingertips.

“I love you.” He repeated, hands stroking the younger’s legs, as he stared right at his eyes. Jongin’s movements with the brush halted momentarily, as he stared back. He was smiling and he was biting on his own lower lip.

Kyungsoo watched him set the palette aside, so he allowed himself to pull him forward.

“I love you.”

A giggle escaped Jongin’s lips as Kyungsoo’s fingers retured to his waist and held him close, pressing their bodies together.

He leaned in, feeling Jongin’s breath on his skin, before connecting their lips in a kiss. Once. Twice. Three times, before he smiled and tucked away a strand of pink hair behind Jongin’s ear. Staring straight at those chocolate eyes that he could stare at for days and keep losing himself in.

“I love you.”

He finally felt Jongin’s hands on himself. Palms resting on his chest, before fingers curled themselves in the front of his shirt, pulling him closer.

They kissed again. Lingering kisses and wandering hands in the middle of the night.

“I love you, too.” Jongin’s voice was sweet and quiet and his lips were soft against Kyungsoo’s.

Three words. Three words Kyungsoo would never grow tired of hearing. Three words Kyungsoo would never grow tired of saying out loud to his rose.

He just pulled Jongin closer.

Jongin, who seemed to have forgotten about the palette with the drying paints.

Jongin, who was unbuttoning the front of his shirt and letting his gentle fingers teasingly run down the exposed skin of Kyungsoo’s chest. He felt his entire body shivering.

Jongin, who could drive him crazy with a single look. A single touch. A single kiss.

“I love you,” he said quietly again, as he pulled them both down, his own fingers fiddling with belts and hems of T-shirts.

Somehow, _I love you_ didn’t seem strong enough to describe how he felt.

Somehow, it never was.

* * *

Kyungsoo was going through the pictures of the last session in his studio, when suddenly a leg entered his periphery vision discreetly.

Or not so discreetly.

“So,” Jongin said as he basically displayed his leg on the table, showcasing the wide old-styled, ripped mom jeans he was wearing. Kyungsoo had to blink twice to make sure he wasn’t imagining the thin, black, checkered strings peeking from under the large rips and holes. “What do you think?”

Fishnets.

Jongin was wearing fishnets.

Kyungsoo took his time taking in the sight. Eating Jongin up with his eyes, from the mom jeans and the fishnets, through the pink T-shirt tucked into the jeans all the way up to the flower crown resting on his fluffy hair. His lips were a muted shade of rose, and his eyes were shining with excitement as he awaited Kyungsoo’s answer.

Kyungsoo, who only felt a lump forming in his throat at the sight.

Jongin was a vision. A vision in pink.

He envied him. How he always carried himself with such style and confidence, how he made everything look so perfect. How he didn’t care what others thought about it as long as he liked it.

He just ended up smiling and motioning for Jongin to come closer, momentarily forgetting about the photos.

“What do _you_ think?”

“I think,” Jongin grinned as he entered Kyungsoo’s open arms. “You absolutely love it.”

Kyungsoo’s eyes travelled down the length of Jongin’s impressive legs again, and at the fishnets peeking from under the rips on the jeans. He felt his mouth drying again.

Jongin wasn’t wrong. He did absolutely love it.

His expression must have speaking for himself, because when he looked up to Jongin’s face again, the younger one was smirking and Kyungsoo only raised a hand to fix the flower crown that had tilted on his head.

“I love everything about you.”

“Is that so?” Jongin teased, two hands wrapping around Kyungsoo’s neck and pulling him closer.

Kyungsoo let his own hands roam. Travel from Jongin’s shoulders to his waist, then down the rough fabric of old jeans and over the rips, where bare skin and strings brushed against his fingertips.

He ended up being pulled towards the bedroom, Jongin eagerly looking at him, as he dragged him down with himself on the bed. His efforts of fixing the flower crown had been useless, for it was hanging to the side of Jongin’s head.

He giggled again when Kyungsoo traced a hand down his legs again, willing to test out exactly how strong those fishnets could be.

* * *

There was a sudden flash in the room, and a loud resounding click.

Kyungsoo lowered the camera to look at a startled Jongin with a palette in his hands and a judging expression on his face.

“You scared me!” the younger man pouted, throwing one more look at Kyungsoo, before turning back to his painting. “What are you doing?”

Kyungsoo smiled down at the camera.

It had been a quiet afternoon and he didn’t have any sessions booked in the studio, so he’d spent it all sitting at home and lovingly looking at Jongin working in concentration.

He wasn’t even trying, but he was so beautiful. The most beautiful.

And Kyungsoo had just been sitting there and thinking about it. How someday when they were old, when _he_ was old and his memories started failing him, fading – he wanted to know he could look back at those pictures and remind himself of how beautiful Jongin was. Remind himself of the little things that made him fall in love with him in the first place – not the flashy clothes, or the shimmering makeup.

What made him fall in love with this man was the passion he had for life. The passion he had for taking life and conquering it, living it in every way he wanted to without being told otherwise.

His happy smile, his sincere eyes, his huge heart.

The paint on his T-shirts, the messy hair every morning he woke up, the inability to cook a meal without burning something.

All these little things, that just kept piling up and making him fall in love deeper and harder with every passing day. It’s been years, but he still found new things to add to that pile every single day. New reasons to love him.

He just ended up looking down and smiling again, before he set the camera with the newest picture aside.

“Nothing,” he said with a lopsided smirk as he walked closer to Jongin, assuming their usual position – wrapping his hands around his waist and resting his chin on Jongin’s shoulder and looking at his newest painting. “Tulips?”

Jongin hummed quietly, pulling his brush back from the canvas and staring at the flowers he’d drawn together with Kyungsoo.

“People say tulips represent perfect love.” He said and it was Kyungsoo’s turn to hum.

“I thought roses represent love?”

“Roses represent a lot of things. Innocence, gratitude, friendship, joy, desire. Love, too.”

Kyungsoo let out a soft chuckle, muffled by Jongin’s shoulder.

“What?” the younger asked softly, his eyes curious as he stared at him.

Kyungsoo just shook his head again.

“Nothing.”

He supposed Jongin was right. He had never been more right, actually.

Roses represented all those things.

And Kyungsoo realized, that he too had been right. Jongin was indeed all that.

He wasn’t just his love.

He was his friend. He was his lust. He was his grace. He was his happiness.

His rose.

* * *

Jongin’s lips against his were always soft. Always sweet and always loving.

The most dangerous kind of perfect.

The most perfect kind of dangerous.

Intoxicating.

He couldn't help but think about it, as he was slowly turning the rose in his hand – large, soft, red petals. Sharp thorns. It looked majestic.

Kissing a rose would be painful.

You’d get hurt by its thorns.

And kissing Jongin, in a way, it was painful. Painful in the sweetest way possible.

The way that always made Kyungsoo long for more.

But that was alright.

Jongin was Kyungsoo’s rose and he wouldn’t mind getting torn apart every day for the rest of his life if it meant he could kiss him forever.

That was love, Kyungsoo supposed, as he looked up from the rose in his hands to the gorgeous man standing in front of him.

The sweetest torture, the sweetest pain.

A kiss from a rose.

* * *

Kyungsoo kept looking around in the empty gallery.

Another exhibition. Another success. Another win.

Jongin was firmly holding his hand, a rose resting behind his ear, as he was showing all his works to his always first supporter before the doors would officially open for the rest of the world to see his creations as well.

Pride. Happiness. Love. All of these emotions flooding his entire body kept Kyungsoo speechless as he kept looking at the different paintings.

Colors. So many new colors in this black and white and grey world. Jongin was bringing it to life slowly.

“You’ve been drawing an awful lot of tulips these days,” Kyungsoo noted as he saw the returning motif in most of the paintings. The tulips hidden amongst other flowers, amongst other figures and specks of paint.  “What happened to roses?”

Jongin shrugged, his own eyes taking everything in.

“I’ve been liking tulips more lately.”

Kyungsoo just raised an eyebrow, gaze involuntarily moving to the rose behind Jongin’s ear.

His odd, peculiar, pink boyfriend.

“Why?”

Jongin’s smile was soft as he finally looked towards Kyungsoo. As his fingers tightened around Kyungsoo’s hand in the middle of the hall and something glimmered inside of his eyes.

Kyungsoo knew that look all too well. The look of utter adoration and devotion.

“They remind me of you.”  

Yes, he knew that look all too well.

_Love._


End file.
